


Five Times Jack Bristow Smiled After Laura Died

by Raptor



Category: Alias
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raptor/pseuds/Raptor





	Five Times Jack Bristow Smiled After Laura Died

"What would you like me to do, Jack?" She absently tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, a playful smile gracing her lips.

"At present I don't believe I'm in a position to demand much of anything." He glanced upwards at his wrists securely restrained with colorful silks to the headboard above.

Running the tips of her fingers lightly down his chest, she teased, "that may be true Jack, but you could phrase it as a request rather than a demand."

He considered this. "Do with me what you wish," he said, smiling. "I'm yours for the taking, Laura."

Without warning the blade appeared at his throat. "You honestly think I love you, Jack?" She laughed haughtily then raised the weapon high above his heart, poised for the kill. "You truly are a fool." The knife plunged...

He awoke with a start, drenched in sweat and stifled a scream. Momentary disorientation receded to the now familiar sounds of prison gates echoing in the distance. She had invaded his dreams yet again. In the darkened cell he closed his eyes and lay back to quiet his breathing, the true nightmare only just beginning once more.

* * *

He walked out dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing when they came for him six months earlier. His suit coat, now ill-fitting, hung loosely from his shoulders. He displayed no emotion, but merely a fleeting sign of recognition when his eyes first met Arvin's. They were actually releasing him, Jack realized. He had not thought it to be true until this very moment.

The two walked, then rode in silence, Arvin correctly sensing the world felt far too vast, too colorful, too loud after so much time spent in isolation. Jack accepted this kindness for what it was. They pulled into the drive and exited the car. Arvin had looked after the house, Jack surmised, having had little chance of his own to make arrangements beyond his daughter's welfare. It felt familiar yet foreign, the comfort of home, now a monument to his stunning incompetence and naïve trust. Blinded by love -- his life had been reduced to a bad cliché. The sensation jolted him, though he gave no discernible outward sign.

Arvin held open the door to the house. "Come in, Jack. There's someone here who is anxious to see you." Jack complied, passing over the threshold with a hesitant step only to be greeted by the briefest sight of a fleeing six-year-old. She peeked at him from the edge of the bedroom doorway, eyeing him warily.

The muffled voice of a woman gently urged her on. "Go on dear. It's ok."

After a moment's consideration and a tentative step, Sydney broke into a run proclaiming loudly, "Daddy! You're home!" and leapt into her father's open arms.

* * *

Just 48 hours ago he'd been fighting for his life deep in the remote jungles of Southeast Asia. A desperate escape, a treacherous Jeep ride through hostile territory and three flights across two continents had gotten him here and not a moment too soon. Bruised, aching and exhausted, the lights had already been dimmed when Jack quietly slipped into the back of the auditorium.

Rows of graduates sat in front of him, each adorned in a traditional cap and gown, restlessly awaiting their turn. He watched with pride and the briefest of smiles when the name "Sydney Anne Bristow" was announced and his daughter made her way across the stage to receive her diploma. Amid applause from the students' families and friends she paused midway, briefly searching for what Jack guiltily realized was her own father, who she assumed unable or more likely unwilling to attend his own daughter's high school graduation.

He could sense her disappointment even from where he was standing, though it was quickly masked by a grin before she settled her gaze on her best friend's smiling face. Francie let out an exuberant cheer that was followed by a disconcerting whistle from an especially enthusiastic classmate. Jack noted the location and identifying characteristics of the young male perpetrator for future investigation and potential interrogation.

His little girl, he realized, despite all his failings, had grown up to become the amazing young woman he now saw before him. A final glance and he was gone.

* * *

She was already over an hour late for their scheduled rendezvous when he heard the nearly inaudible click of the lock on the door being picked. Pistol in hand, he watched the handle slowly turn and Irina step into the hotel room.

"I apologize for my delay; it couldn't be helped. I seemed to have picked up a tail, but I can assure you, he won't be bothering us again." She took a seat at the small table and studied her husband. He looked tired, beleaguered. "We've been taking far too many risks, Jack. Lindsey may be an ass, but he's no fool. He's got to be becoming suspicious of your extended absences."

Anger flaring, Jack replied, "My daughter is dead, Irina. Don't you think I'm entitled to a little time off to grieve?"

"Our daughter," she whispered, before continuing. "You'll serve her memory no purpose if you land yourself in prison."

"Do you have the latest intel or not?" he snapped.

Without another word she slipped the disk from her coat pocket and slid it across the table. Jack opened his laptop and placed the CD into the drive.

"The meet went as planned," she explained. "My associate assured me this would be of great interest. He knows better than to disappoint."

They watched the video three times in perfect silence before Jack leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Unable to resist a smile, he proclaimed, "she's alive."

* * *

When Nadia first arrived at APO Jack deliberately limited their interactions in the field. He told himself this was solely for Nadia's benefit. A distracted agent on a mission is a catastrophe waiting to happen. No need to subject her to the awkwardness and stress of working in close quarters with her mother's scorned husband.

This time, however, there was no alternative. The black tie affair convened at the home of a notorious arms dealer. Their mission: infiltrate the party, identify the contact and disrupt the exchange scheduled to take place later on that evening.

Nadia slipped her arm through Jack's as they entered the ballroom. An older man with a strikingly beautiful woman half his age on his arm: not the most original cover, he thought, but no doubt a believable one.

"Shall we dance?" he asked, while surveying the other guests who had already arrived.

"It would be my pleasure," Nadia replied. They made their way to the dance floor where he took her hand in his then gently pulled her closer. Even with the benefit of four inch stilettos she was nowhere near as tall as Irina and yet he felt something familiar in her touch. There was no denying she moved with the confident grace of a Derevko.

"I remind you of her, don't I?" She sensed his body stiffen almost imperceptibly. "I remind you of what she did to you."

After a moment's pause, he replied. "You are not responsible for your mother's transgressions. She made her own choices."

Nadia looked into his eyes and weighed his response. He matched her gaze with an intensity she might have easily misinterpreted if she didn't know better.

"As I know you will make yours." The merest flicker of a smile crept across Jack's face.


End file.
